Claire was hard pressed to find another time or event in Cape Van Buren that she loved more than the Fall Art Festival.

The smell of pine and cinnamon in the air, the warm glow of seasonal fire pits, all mixed with the light, salty breeze off the Atlantic, set the stage for something magnificent, something particularly special that she once only imagined could be found in a storybook.

The festival was underway and the smiles on the children's faces, the happy and possibly tipsy glow on the parents’, warmed her heart and filled her with a satisfaction she hadn't experienced in a long time. The end results of her strategically planned blueprints for the festival were perfect.

Vendors and food and entertainment alternated as visitors made their way through the Cape trees, moving from one decadent experience to the next. Mitch would be proud of the lesson he’d taught her. She was a great student, if she did say so herself.

Every citizen would leave the festival with a multitude of amazing memories.

“With that dreamy smile on your face, I'd almost think you were thinking of a boy.” Maxine's voice broke through her musings.

Janice chuckled. “You mean even though we've been told time and again there’s no chance of any such thing? Very sad if you ask me. I was really hoping for an awesome daughter-in-law.”

Claire's mother joined the crew. Claire secretly suspected that Tessa might have been brought in as an honorary North Cove Madam as well. “I don't blame you for being disappointed. As daughters go, she's one of the very best.”

The pride in her mother's eyes was something she’d always seek, regardless of her age. “Thanks, Mom. You all really are having a good time?”

Maxine's smile shone as brightly as the rings dripping from her fingers. “You've really outdone yourself,” she said with a serious tone. And then with a glint in her eye, she waved her hand toward her own table bedecked in a waterfall of blue jars filled with her secret recipe moonshine. “Judge even said I could sell my moonshine.”

Claire's mother laughed. “Yes, but you can't profit from any of it. All of the money has to go to the children's fund.”

Maxine tapped her chin. “That is true, but I do see it as one more step toward victory. I'll win him over, you'll see.”

“The law is the law, Maxine, even you can't work around that.” Janice’s red curls were tucked under a cap. “How many times have you seen the inside of the Cape Van Buren jail cell?”

Claire giggled. Maxine's antics were infamous and told town-wide. Maxine waved her hand in dismissal. “Well, can't say I'm not having fun. Since I don't know how many days I have left on this good earth, fun is my middle name.”

The ladies laughed and continued on down the path. Claire appreciated the love and support they had found in the friendship they'd grown. Blayne and Larkin ducked their heads through the path from the Cape lawn, and her heart expanded once again. She’d found the same.

Though the event was a success, her heart was heavy. She’d hoped Mitch would show, but it was a fool’s wish. “I think I screwed up, you guys. I've been so afraid of losing that I pushed away a future that could have been really beautiful.”

Blayne made a gagging noise. “Mitch Brennan? Really? That’s who you fell in love with?”

Claire shot her an eat shit and die look, placing her hands on her hips as she pulled herself up to take advantage of every inch of height she possessed. “Mitch Brennan is much deeper than any of you know. And I seriously wonder if anyone has ever made an effort to see past his good looks and charm and antics to the kind of man he really is. Do you know that he fights for the rights of the low-income housing on the north side of town? Do you know that all the work he’s done for the conservation center has been completely pro bono, or that he’s put himself through extensive continued education in order to make sure that he implemented and protected the appropriate policies to ensure the Cape’s health and future?”

She fisted her hands against her hips. “He cares about this town as much as any of us, and more than most.”

She hadn't meant for her voice to raise as high as it did, catching herself when she noticed one too many heads turning her way. Blayne grinned. “Oh, we know. We were just waiting to see how long it would take you to notice.”

Claire sucked in a breath and let it out in a rush. “I'm glad you know because of apparently the stupid city council doesn't. It was their actions—or reactions—to his submission for the city attorney seat that had him running and into the arms of another city.”

Larkin laughed. “You make it sound like another woman.”

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. “It might as well be. He’ll keep that seat at least four years, and in that time, there’s no doubt in my mind that some unique, artistic Portlandite with legs up to her armpits will have wrapped her talented fingers around his heart and keep him there for good.”

She happened to catch Judge Teddy watching her with a serious expression. She loved the man, but she couldn't help pointing at him. “You all should be ashamed of yourselves, Judge.”

He had the decency to shift restlessly and clear his throat. “Well, it's high praise for the man coming from you Claire Adams. You're one of the very best in this town.”

She wasn’t expecting that response, and a tinge of guilt replaced some of her frustration. “I'm sorry. It's just that I've really gotten to know Mitch recently, and I've been really impressed with what he has to offer.”

People walked between them, too interested in the next booth or the smell of the coffee waiting at the end of the trail to bother paying attention to them.

The judge nodded, then sipped his moonshine. With a whistle, he raised it in a toast. “Here's to good people taking care of our town.”

The band took that moment to strike up their next song. For the next hour, it would be rock and roll classics, and the energetic tunes got the kids screaming in their excitement. Claire approached the table she had set up, wondering if her head would make it.

Or her heart, with the heavy weight in her chest taking up too much room. She wasn't going to be able to do her coping skills classes after all, and the man her heart gave her no choice in loving was probably halfway to Portland. Plastering a smile on her face, she joined the kids, taking comfort in the pleasure of them wrapping their arms around her legs. “Miss Claire, Miss Claire!”

She called them all over to the table, explaining how their project would go. When they left, they would each have a canvas with their silhouette and five words of strength that described them. They all grinned, some with gaps, some still sporting the straight pearls of baby teeth, but each raising their hands with a “me, me, me” trying to score the position of going first.

Someone cleared their throat, and the familiar rumble skittered up her spine. She found Mitch sitting at the end of the table with a canvas in his hands. He waved at her with a sweet grin of his own, one that turned her heart inside out. “Miss Adams, I already have mine done. Would you like to see it?”

Blayne and Larkin approached, standing by the tree line with Maxine, Janice, Evette, and Tess linked arm-in-arm with eager expressions on their faces.

Her heart thumped in her chest with both panic and hope as she turned to take in the sight of the man she loved. His broad shoulders blocked out the band behind him, a look of earnest anticipation on his handsome face.

She bit her lip, trying to hide the smile that stretched her lips wide. And then made her best attempt at being aloof. “Well, I don't know, Mr. Brennan. Technically, I haven't set up the order in which the students can go yet.”

One of the children yelled out, “That's okay, Miss Adams, we want to see what he has.” All the other kids joined in their cries of agreement.

“It seems you have some fans, Mr. Brennan, so I guess it is only fair to see the work you’ve done.”

She wasn't sure what he had in mind or what was going through that head of his. She had a hard time reconciling that he was sitting in front of her, though her eyes devoured him like Maxine’s leftover moonshine.

He turned the canvas around, and she studied it, pulling in a shaky breath. It was the silhouettes of a woman with a crop of shoulder-length wavy hair. Underneath were the words dedicated, generous, intelligent, loving, brave.

She shook her head. She'd been far from brave; in fact, she could clearly see now what a coward she'd really been. It was humbling how much fear could steal from you if you let it.

 "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

“Learning how to cope with my fears from a really talented woman.”

Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Unfortunately, I can't help you. This is just an art class.” Learning she wasn't going to be able to put her coping skills program forward had been crushing, but she wasn't about to give up so easily. Her activity today was an artistic endeavor, but it made the kids reflect on their strengths and not only verbalize them but put them on canvas for everyone to see. That kind of action was powerful and resonated within the brain in more than one way.

She was determined to find her path, even with its limitations. She had channeled her inner Mitch and decided not to care so much about what people thought and really focus on what she needed. And what she needed was to help the children of her town.

“Actually,” he said, running a finger along the silhouette of her nose on the canvas, making her rub her own. He caught her in the act and smiled. “You’ll be able to implement your Coping through Art program at the Cape center after all. However, there is a condition.”

A whole different kind of hope, one that was found in a different area of her heart she didn’t know existed, fluttered with the possibility of his words. “I don't understand.”

“A colleague of mine from a past case agreed to supervise you, absorbing any liability risk that the Center would take on.”

She opened her mouth to speak, her heart racing so fast she was afraid she’d pass out, but he put up a finger. “But only if you agree to go back and finish your degree like you've always wanted so that you can eventually take over the program and expand it as you see fit.”

Fear and joy, self-doubts and determination, all swirled in her chest.

“I don't think—a”

He stood. “What do you want, Claire? Do you want to help the children, do you really want to serve this town in the way that you told me you did? Because if you really do, then you’ll grab this opportunity.”

“But there is no room in the budget to support a supervising psychiatrist.”

“That has already been taken care of. The psychiatrist will be sponsored by a private practice law office that recently established itself in town.”

Questions and confusion muddled her thinking, and she rubbed her forehead. Afraid to hope, afraid to dream, afraid to speak and make it all disappear.

“I'm staying, Claire. I passed up the opportunity in Portland, and I've opened a private law office here in town. I'm staying to fight for what I want. I am opening myself up to this town, and I am going to prove to you that risking the pain of losing for a love like ours is worth every bit of the risk.”

Emotion lodged in her throat, and she worked to swallow around it. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but she was terrified of taking that step.

So he took it for her.

He walked around the table, removing the physical obstacle between them, but she didn't know how to make it better. So completely overcome with emotion, she simply stared.

Grabbing her hands, he pulled her close, settling her hips against his and sending a frisson of excitement through her body. “You’re it for me, sweetheart. I’m terrified of hurting you, but that just means that I will work every day to make sure that doesn't happen.”

His gaze roamed her face with an intensity that filled her heart. “But when I do, because it will happen, I promise to be there to make it better. I’ll choose you and our life together in whatever form it takes every day.” He released a breath. “I love you.”

She was dizzy with emotion as she absorbed his words. “I know. And I’ll do the same for you. I love you, too, Mitch. I kept telling myself not to, but here we are.” She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “I was such a fool to think that loving you wasn’t worth the risk or that I could possibly control it.”

“You’re stuck with me now. No turning back.” His smile was full of satisfaction.

She squeezed his bicep to drive home the point and returned, “Never. You’re mine.”

“I don't deserve someone like you...”

She shook her head, but he placed a finger on her lips.

“I don't, but I want to. As a man who knows how to make a small moment special, you taught me the desire to cherish and embrace the big ones.”

She pressed her lips against his with an urgent need to show him just how much she loved, admired, and wanted him. Her heart rejoiced. It was unlike anything she’d ever known before. Desperate and powerful, needy and generous. As his lips slid along hers, she trailed her fingers along his shoulders to the back of his neck to keep him right where she wanted him.

In her arms.

He eased back just enough to smile down at her. “Claire, you are my big moment.”

“And you’re mine,” she whispered.